The wait begins

  So now we had to wait.  As it was a weekend, we had to wait til the monday (my 38th birthday) to have an ultrasound and see what was going on.  I had been blood tested and canulated, they had to leave a cannula in just in case I hemmorhaged again.  And over the next 4 weeks I was going to be prodded and poked so much that most of the time they couldnt find veins, and some of the places they put the cannulas were excruciating due to my arthritis.
It was the longest weekend I'd had up to then.

On Monday, I had my ultrasound, it showed an extremely happy and active baby who was under no stress, and while the fluid was low it seemed ok.
We were quietly confident that everything was going to be ok.  Later that afternoon an obstetrician cameto see us.  The first thing he said was that they wanted to induce me.  I was floored.  I said no.  He argued that it was going to happen anyway and that the baby obviously had some sort of chromosome disorder like downs syndrome, despite everything to the contrary.
I told him if it was inevitable, it could happen naturally, I was not going to kill my baby.  I said if it was downs syndrome, I would love her regardless.
He said fine, I could stay on bedrest in hospital or at home.  I chose hospital, \after everything they had told me in that delivery room I was not going to risk my other kids witnessing that!!  What a horrendous birthday!

So I began the routine of daily prodding, testing, antibiotics and sadly daily many midwives and doctors told me my wait was futile.  Again and again I was told there was no hope and that even if my baby made it to a viable age she would still die, or, if by some miracle she survived, she would be a vegetable with no hope of any sort of life.  This was not sensible nurses and doctors giving me worst case scenarios, or talking about cerebral palsy, this was just cruel and heartless, jaded people.  I was even told by one midwife that to consider putting my baby through the NICU process was cruel, kinder to let her die.

I had Mum bring in my laptop and began researching premature babies, I found that a baby could survive from 24 weeks (I know now, they can survive earlier too!!!!) so I began setting goals.  My first goal was to reach 24 weeks, after that I would set a goal for 25 weeks etc.
I found some lovely people online in different premmie forum thingys, not a huge amount about 23-24 weekers......and there were a few that I did find, that I wish I hadnt.
I gave myself Reiki constantly, and  kept telling my baby how strong she was.  When I mentioned the reiki to one of the midwives, she mentioned a co worker who practised another form of healing Jin Shin Jyutsu.  This midwife came to me and gave me some  healing, and some exercises to do to help keep the baby, she was wonderful.  I also started getting a couple of midwives here and there who would tell me they had worked in NICU units and seen many 23-24's come through ok.

Daily I begged to be sent to Monash as I knew my baby didnt stand a chance at Casey, and daily they said not until I hit 23+5, which according to them was the earliest viable age.
Every week, late Sunday night/ridiculous time Monday morning, they did a speculum on me.  And every Monday early morning without fail I hemmorhaged!!  I bled every day, it was constant, but only hemmorhaged early on a Monday.  I was in pain constantly, costant aching which got worse with each hemmorhage, the pain was from the blood irritating the uterus, causing some contracting.  I pleaded with them not to do the speculums any more, as the only other thing that I had every Saturday night (after a visit from Aunty Dawn) was tasty cheese doritos, and when I stopped them and I still hemmorhaged I safely assumed it was the bloody speculum causing it!!!!!!  But they wouldnt stop.  And each time I hemmorhaged, they said I was leaking as well.

Throughout everything, my baby remained insanely active!!!  My god that child was going to be tough!!!! 
Despite being positive that she would survive, theres a tiny sliver of doubt in the very darkest back corner of your mind.  And I found that I really NEEDED my baby to have a name.  Its probably a bit insane, but if she didnt make it, I wanted her to know who she was.  I had told Paul he could name her so I kept on harrassing him, I got him a name book and as I looked through I saw two names I really liked - Jasmine and Jade......I didnt tell Paul though, so it was funny when he called and suggested both those names!!!  I said Jasmine because my nieces middle name is Jade, and I chose Vicky as Jazzies middle name as it means victorious!